The problem with sinkholes … is us

Sinkholes are not the problem, we are. We live as if environmental hazards such as sinkholes, rising seas and alligator attacks are personal injunctions against humanity rather than a part of the natural order. 

On Oct. 26, a sinkhole opened in northwest Gainesville. It swallowed a pool and someone’s entire backyard. It made headlines across the state.

My colleagues sent me aerial drone footage of the sinkhole. The video was incredible as it showed the magnitude of the event and sparked myriad reactions. After seeing it, some friends of mine said that being swallowed by a sinkhole was their greatest fear.  

Florida, in simple terms, is a limestone platform covered in sediments that only recently breached the surface of the ocean. Our beautiful state is like a piece of chalk covered in sand. It is dissolving beneath us even while you read this. New sinkholes collapsed last year, this year and they will happen next year too.  

Sinkholes are not entirely harmless. The U.S. Geological Survey website states that sinkholes across the nation cause an average of $300 million in damage every year and that only includes the ones that have been observed.

The damage isn’t only monetary. In 2015 a man was eaten alive by the ground in Seffner. You ask, “Am I in any danger?” The answer is no. Despite thousands of sinkhole insurance claims every year in Florida, let alone the sinkholes that go unnoticed, there are rarely any deaths.   

Why does a natural occurrence in a familiar place surprise and scare us? Did you ever build a sandcastle on the beach as a child?

You built a tower and dug a moat around it. The excavated sand made an excellent sea wall. Suddenly, a wave smashed into your sea wall and washed it away. You scrambled to rebuild it and protect the castle, but another wave came before you could manage to and left your tower as a formless mound of wet sand.

You tried again further uphill, but the tide was on your heels. In a matter of minutes, your castle was little more than a memory.   

Just like children, we forget that Florida is constantly evolving from hurricanes, land subsidence, coastal erosion and sinkholes that swallow swimming pools. We, in our ingenuity, have turned the wild frontier of Florida into a seemingly manageable paradise. We easily forget that in the not-too-distant past, Florida was underwater and that in the not-too-distant future it may be again one day as the sea rises.

Just like children, we get frustrated that our landscape doesn’t bend to our will and stop collapsing and eroding before our very eyes.   

We fear sinkholes and it deprives us from peace of mind. I am not suggesting that we ought to live without caution, rather, that our society loses out on the joy of living and adapting to an ever-changing place because we resist against both discomfort and inconvenience. If you change the way you think about sinkholes, it will change the way you experience them as well.  

The solution is to stop being surprised. Just as we expect hurricanes to come every year and wreak havoc on our shores without much question, we should expect sinkholes to propagate across our brittle peninsula.

We get uptight about being eaten by the ground when the threat is minimal and just another part of the natural order in Florida. Sinkholes are not the problem. The problem is us and how we think about them.  

Matt Godwin is a University of Florida student who lives in Gainesville.